


Adventures in Police Work - Care of Vehicles

by Sealgirl



Category: Ironside (TV 1967)
Genre: Cars, Gen, Humour, Missing Scene, car crash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:27:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28366893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sealgirl/pseuds/Sealgirl
Summary: Three times Ed Brown damaged a police vehicle, and one time he didn't. (Complete)





	1. 1963 - "Spin"

**Author's Note:**

> A/N Two of the chapters are based on real episodes, but I have taken a couple of little liberties with the details, mainly because the episodes themselves aren't consistent. (Longer notes at the end of Ch 4).
> 
> Inspired by a chance comment by Swordznsorcery many moons ago, and it's become my head canon. Because sometimes you need a giant, multi-chapter, multi-layered, angst-ridden fanfic. And sometimes, you just need to crash a few cars :)
> 
> And as always, thanks to Realmlife for betaing.
> 
> Warnings - If you don't like fics about car crashes, then this isn't the fic for you!

Chapter 1

1963 - "Spin"

'C'mon, Brown! C'mon! You're _losing_ him!'

Officer Ed Brown would have answered his partner back, but he was too focused on the car in front of them. The rain was coming down in sheets, the patrol car handled like it was on ice. It had been difficult to concentrate at the best of times in the few months since Dayton's arrest, and a high-speed chase in the rain was not his idea of fun end to a long, dull night-shift.

Almost ten minutes ago, a call had come over the wire about a suspicious driver. Ed and Larry were the closest and had responded immediately. But as soon as the other driver had seen them, he'd sped up, and now the two cars were careering along the back streets of San Francisco at illegal speeds.

'He's getting away!' Larry told him, pointing at the other car. ' _Speed up_!'

Again, Ed ignored his partner. It was hard enough to keep control of the car with all the water on the road without having a running commentary on the faults in his driving from Larry. Any faster and it would spin, Ed could already feel the tires losing their grip on the road when he turned. He was right at the red line.

'C'mon! Come! _On_!'

They were approaching a T-junction and Ed lifted his foot slightly off the gas, more concerned about taking the corner at speed than which way the car was going to turn.

'He's gonna go left!' Larry told him, pointing. 'Left! _Left!_ '

Ed wasn't so sure. The car ahead weaved left to right, as if the driver was trying to trick them into choosing the wrong way. Ed slowed a little more, the gap between the two cars growing. Left or right? He couldn't tell.

The lead car didn't slow, even though the junction was scarily close. Then suddenly the driver slammed his brakes, swerving right.

Ed followed, spinning the wheel sharply, turning right, steering the car but struggling to keep control as he braked into the turn. Ahead, the lead car lost its grip on the tarmac and started to skid, sending a sheet of water up into the air. The patrol car, although travelling more slowly, also began to skid sideways as the tires lost traction.

Beside him, Larry gave a yelp of fear, but Ed said nothing, too concerned with fighting the steering and stopping the car before… oh, _no_!

Ed braked harder, turning the wheel as far as it would go and hoping that would slow the slide, but the car still skidded, the trunk swinging round and pulling the rest of the car round as well. He pushed the brakes again, desperately hoping the car would stop turning.

It didn't. Instead their patrol car kept going sideways. The brakes locked the steering and there was nothing he could do. It kept on going sideways, not slowing down.

No, no, _no_ , NO. _NO_!

They were going to crash. There was nothing he could do.

Just ahead, the other car slammed into the far end of a wall with a thud, and Ed realised that the patrol car was just about to do exactly the same thing, but further back along the same wall. They were going to hit it side on.

This was going to hurt.

Larry gave another yell and braced for the inevitable smash, leaning outward to protect himself. Ed didn't have that luxury, being at the wheel and on the same side as the wall. All he could do was hold on and hope that it wasn't going to be as bad as it looked.

But it was.

The car smashed wing-first into the wall and just… _stopped_.

The side window shattered, sending glass over Ed's arm and hands. He was momentarily crushed against the inside car door, the feeling was like being dropped on concrete. The whole of his left side had a spike of sudden agony. Then he was thrown forward by the momentum of the car, the side of his jaw taking a glancing blow from the steering wheel, and all the breath was knocked out of him as his chest connected with the wheel as well.

For a few seconds Ed sat there, aching, breathless and disoriented.

Larry recovered more quickly and jumped out, running after the suspect, but it was useless. The other driver, also disorientated, had hit less of the wall and cause less damage to his car. Before Larry got close enough to challenge him, the driver turned over the engine and roared off, kicking up a slew of mud from the back wheels as they spun. The car vanished into the night and there was nothing they could do but watch.

Ed sluggishly pushed himself along the seat towards the open passenger door, gasping for breath, feeling like he'd just been crushed in a vice. He could tell the patrol car wasn't going anywhere now. The left front wing had buckled and there was a thin line of steam coming from the right side of the hood, a hissing and spitting sound suggesting that the radiator had gone.

Holding his ribs, Ed slithered out of the car and into the rain, barely able to keep upright and out of the mud. There were a few superficial cuts on his hand, and probably a few on his face as well, but the rain made it look like he was pouring blood everywhere. But that was the least of his problems. Breathing was hard enough without having to worry about anything else.

Larry came trotting back over, ignoring Ed leaning against the door, and he reached into the car to report what had happened over the radio. Ed wasn't even listening. Larry scowled at him.

'You're in it, Brown,' Larry said crossly. 'This was important. Ironside's gonna flip out.'

Ed nodded, not bothered about yet another dressing down. These days, it felt as if he and the division commander had a regular appointment. What did another one matter anyway? No, he was more concerned that he'd upset Chief Ironside. In spite of how Ed had felt over the past few months, he remembered the kindness the Chief had shown him during the investigation into Dayton. This was a poor way to repay him. He closed his eyes, swearing under his breath.

'You better hope it's not a write-off or you'll be in it even _worse_ ,' Larry added. 'You keep this up you're going to get a reputation for this sort of stunt.'

'Thanks a lot,' gasped Ed between teeth gritted in pain. 'Just what I needed to hear.'

* * *

'Come in, Officer Brown,' Sergeant Reese said.

Chief Robert Ironside looked up briefly as the young man walked into his office and stood in front of the desk. Reese closed the door behind Brown, and then settled himself behind the Chief. Ironside could just imagine Carl leaning against the wall, his arms crossed, a slight, amused smile on his face.

The Chief continued writing his report for almost a minute, letting Brown stand there and wait. It wasn't usual for the Chief of Police to get involved in a disciplinary action for one of the junior officers, but in this case he felt the need to intervene. Brown had been on his last, last warning, and the division commander had asked for the Chief's opinion.

Once he had finished writing, Ironside picked up Brown's personal file, all exemplary work, up to a few months ago. The loss of his fiancée had changed everything. The Chief gave a tiny frown, remembering the feeling of grief, his own beautiful, _perfect_ wife, killed so senselessly by a drunk driver. He looked up at Brown, still standing there, waiting. He recognised the emptiness, the glazed and vacant look of a man who's given up. At some point soon Brown was going to get himself killed. There had already been a couple of near-misses, and now this crash. Brown didn't care.

The Chief put Brown's file to one side and opened the other one on his desk. This was the report of the crash. Brown's statement was at the top, but he turned it over, rereading the statement from Officer Carr. There was something almost _gleeful_ in Carr's overblown description of the car chase. The Chief didn't doubt it was accurate, but the details about Brown's actions were over the top, especially about the skid and the steering lock. Carr said Brown had panicked.

Ironside looked up sharply. Brown was staring blankly off into the distance, eyes front, as impassive as the Golden Gate Bridge. His face gave nothing away. Brown had been distracted, tired, strung out ever since Dayton had been brought in. He hadn't wanted time off, he had just got on with it. Panic? Officer _Brown_? Looking at him now, the Chief doubted he would know panic if it punched him out.

Ironside gave a sigh. This was an able, diligent young man who had proved himself a competent and trustworthy police officer. To let him waste that talent would be a crime. Brown might not care anymore, by Ironside did. He wasn't going to let Brown give in without trying to help.

'Officer Brown?' Ironside said quietly. 'I've heard the description of the crash from Officer Carr. Now I want to hear it from you. From the top.'

Brown spoke in a monotone, repeating what was in the statement almost word for word, all the time still staring blankly at the wall. He didn't add anything new.

Ironside waited until he was finished, then shook his head and looked back down at the report again, letting the young officer just keep standing there, ramrod straight. He thought about what had happened, trying to visualise it in his mind. Brown had been driving the car too fast to keep control, perhaps prioritising keeping tabs on the suspect. A sharp turn was all it took, he'd turned too late and braked too slow. It was a mistake, but an easy one to do, one split second decision, and that was that. Once he was in the slide there wasn't much anyone could have done. And at least he'd hit a wall and not anything more _breakable_.

The Chief pointed at the seat, and Brown hesitated for a moment before sitting. Ironside looked him in the eye. Brown looked back, his glazed but steady gaze showed nothing of what he was thinking.

'You should have been more careful,' Ironside said quietly. 'After everything, this comes as a great _disappointment_.'

For the first time in the interview, Brown registered an emotion, a fleeting momentary expression. He flinched as if the Chief had just struck him across the face. But at least it _was_ an expression. At least that was something different from the dazed, empty look he'd had for months.

'I'm sorry, sir,' he said, the slightest shudder to his voice.

'I should think so, Officer Brown,' the Chief said. 'You were fortunate you hit a wall and not something else. Or some _one_ else.'

'Yes, sir.' The shutters were back down, the eyes glazed over once more. They were back to where they'd started.

'The repairs are coming out of your paycheck,' Ironside said. Still no change. 'But I think I know what we need to do.' He took a surreptitious glance to Sergeant Reese. 'Officer, we are going to get you a few lessons in how to handle a police vehicle. Properly handle one.'

'Sir?' Officer Brown replied, slightly surprised. That was two _whole_ emotions in a single minute. Whatever next! The Chief almost smiled.

'Be at the back of the department, eight o'clock this Sunday morning. That's an order, Officer Brown.'

'Yes, sir,' replied Brown, his voice back to the same monotone as earlier.

'Dismissed.'

Brown rose and turned smartly, like on a parade ground, then left the room. A moment after the door had closed, Reese moved round the desk and looked keenly at the Chief, eyebrows raised in an amused expression.

'C'mon, Chief! You really gonna do that to the poor kid?'

'Yes I am, Sergeant. Why?'

Reese gave a wider smile, nodding knowingly.

'Then I've got ten bucks that says he'll last two minutes before he hurls.'

* * *

Ed Brown glanced at his watch for the third time in two minutes. It was 7:56 in the morning. He was leaning against the wall beside the rear door of the Department, waiting as instructed. He'd been tempted to blow it off and not bother, but the Chief had given him a direct order, and he didn't want to make Ironside even more disappointed than he already was. That was the only thing about this whole fiasco that actually made him feel bad. True, the repairs were _expensive,_ he'd no idea it would be that much and it was going to take months to pay it off.

But then again, what did he care about the paycheck? He didn't have a lot to spend his hard earned cash on anymore, did he? No need to save for the wedding now.

The thought made him uncomfortable. Brown took a last draw on his cigarette, and flicked it into the gutter. This was a waste of time.

There was a noise from the door beside him, and he turned to see it open and Chief Ironside step out into the cool, misty morning. He nodded a greeting at Ed, who stared in surprise.

'Come on then,' Ironside said.

Ed frowned in confusion.

'Chief Ironside? Wh- I mean you-?'

'You think I don't know how to handle a car?' Ironside said, sounding mildly amused. Ed frowned more deeply, his confusion growing more intense with every moment. Not only was he surprised at the Chief being there, but he'd never heard mild amusement from the man either. He wasn't sure anyone had.

The Chief led the way round the corner to the police garage, and Ironside headed straight towards an older Ford tucked away in a corner. It was a little bashed in places, and had a few scrapes along the side, but otherwise it looked in good order.

Ironside threw the keys to Ed, then patted the roof as they got in.

'Nice low centre of gravity,' he said. 'Just the thing for a bit of practice.'

Ed looked doubtfully at him, and took the driver's seat. The moment he turned the engine over he felt the extra power under the hood, the note of the engine much lower than the Fords he was used to. It growled at him. He drove it as carefully as he could, following the instructions the Chief gave him, but the car was like a wild animal wanting to be free. One false step and it would be off down the street chewing up tarmac as it went.

Ironside told him to drive out of town, up towards the north. It took them about an hour, and during that time they chatted on and off about nothing in particular, the Chief keeping the conversation going for most of the time. Ironside sounded relaxed, but Ed was feeling more nervous the further they drove, finding it tricky to drive the monster car and make polite small-talk with his boss, a man known for his tough and no nonsense leadership style. On more than one occasion, Ed would himself wondered what on earth was going on, and how he had ended up in such a bizarre situation.

At last, they turned onto a narrow dusty path, and at the end was what looked like an old, disused farmyard. The sign at the gate said "Miller's Place". There was no one else around. The Chief didn't look surprised and urged Ed to keep going.

'Miller knows,' he said with a smile. 'He's used to it.'

Ed drove the car through the gates and immediately felt the change in the car. It kicked up a line of dust and handled like it was on ice, the wheels felt as if they each had a mind of their own.

'Let's get on with it then, Ed.' Ed stared at him. The shock of hearing the Chief use his first name almost made him forget where he was. 'We've not got all day.'

'Y-Yes, sir,' he stammered. 'I mean, no sir.'

'And Chief will be fine,' Ironside added. 'We're not on duty.'

'Yes, Chief.'

Over the next two hours, Ed drove the Ford up and down the yard, practising sliding and drifting in slippery dust. Ironside told him about when to brake, how to stop a skid, how to let the car's momentum do all the work, and how to go against your instincts and not brake into a skid, how to steer into it and not out of it. Ed listened, and he learned, slowly mastering the skills needed to manage the slide and keep the car moving forward when all it wanted to do was go sideways.

Ironside moved on. Handbrake turns round corners, which would have been the best thing to use in that ill-fated car chase in the rain, again using the weight of the car to help get you where you wanted to go. Ed didn't like the feeling of sliding a car around at the edge of its performance range, or the screech the handbrake made, or the acrid smell of burning brake pads, but he got the hang of it.

Finally, J-turns. Reversing at high speed then spinning the car to move forward, all without stopping. The Chief made it sound easy, but Ed found it next to impossible to control the overpowered and over-steering Ford. The back was far too heavy, rather than swinging round 180 degrees, he always ended up too far round, the car spun wildly then jerked to a stop as it stalled.

Every.

Single.

Goddamn.

 _Time_.

'Let's do it again,' the Chief said calmly, for what felt like the millionth time.

But Ed had had enough. Suddenly and inexplicably furious, he slammed his hand flat on the top of the steering wheel.

'How the _hell_ were you suppose to J-turn a car like this?' he growled. 'It's impossible!'

Ironside looked at him, the expression on his face was one Ed had never seen before. They stared at each other in silence, all the time Ed was expecting to be bawled out for losing his cool in front of his boss. But that didn't happen. Instead, after a few moments, Ironside gave a slow smile.

'If you would _care_ to swap,' the Chief said.

Ed got out, slamming the door, and stalked round to the passenger side while Ironside moved over. As Ed got in the passenger side, he crossed his arms, feeling more like a sulking teenager than he ever did when he _had_ been a teenager.

Ironside started by getting a good feel for the car, just driving it around the yard in wide, gentle circles, with smooth changes in direction and no quick turns. Slowly, the car built up speed and the manoeuvres became more complex. J-turns, drifts, slides, everything. Back and forward, round and round. At every moment the Chief was in complete control, even when the car was careering around at forty miles per hour in a place that was the size of a football field. Ironside knew exactly what he was doing. Round and round and round the car went, figures of eight, wheel spins, more slides and drifts, faster, sharper turns.

Round and round and _round_.

Ten minutes later, Ed was braced against the side of the car, holding on to keep from sliding, as the car kept on going. His head was spinning, the back of his eyes hurt.

Then there was the sudden and terrible realisation that he was about to be sick. Ten seconds. That was all. _Oh no_!

'Stop. Stop! _Stop_!' he mumbled. Oh, God! He was going to throw up. In front of his boss.

Ironside slammed on the brakes, swinging the car to the left in a smooth, gliding, _stylish_ curve that, even in his nauseated state, Ed was very impressed with. The instant the car had stopped, Ed opened the door and struggled out. He staggered like a drunk over to the fence and a couple of seconds later he was on his knees, throwing up, grateful he had only a few bites of toast for breakfast.

Afterwards, he toppled to the side and sat on the ground, his head tipped forward between his knees, trying to stop the spinning in his head. He didn't dare close his eyes in case he threw up again. He stared at a pebble on the ground, waiting for the sensation to pass, trying to keep on breathing. Ironside came over as he sat sprawled on the ground, and offered him a bottle of water. Ed took it and gulped the contents down gratefully.

'You win,' he said in a begrudging tone, not bothering to look up. 'You _can_ j-turn that thing. Can I go home now?'

The Chief laughed, and Ed gave a slight, crest-fallen grin, feeling embarrassed. The words were out before he'd remembered who he was talking to.

'It's easier when you're the driver,' the Chief told him. 'You can keep your eye on where you're going better. Always watch the point on the road where you want to get to. Makes you a lot less dizzy. And you lasted longer than Carl did.'

'How did you learn to do that?'

'Practice, Ed. A _lot_ of practice.'

Ed groaned loudly, putting his hands over his face, not caring any more if this was his boss. He couldn't do anything more in circles today. Probably not for the next few weeks either. Just the thought of more turns made him feel sick all over again.

'I don't think I can practice much more today,' he said. 'I'm not sure my stomach can take it.'

The Chief smiled down at him, shaking his head.

'We'll leave it for now.'

'Thanks,' Ed huffed, relieved.

Ironside held out his hand, and pulled Ed standing. The ground swayed, but didn't lurch and after a couple of deep breaths, he was feeling okay.

'You look like a man in need of some lunch,' the Chief said, glancing at his watch. 'Settles the stomach after a morning practising.'

Ed almost argued saying he still felt sick, but he stopped. He didn't feel quite as bad as he had done. Maybe a little food would help.

'I don't have much on me,' Ed replied, searching his pockets for some cash. He pulled out a couple of coins, frowning. 'I didn't think I'd be needing any. And I-I, well, I don't go out much anymore. I can stand you a hotdog?'

Ironside smiled again and patted him gently on the shoulder.

'This one's on me, Ed. Let's try the seafood place over by the bridge.'

Ironside handed the keys back to Ed, who inexplicably found himself smiling back at his boss, feeling… he couldn't quite put a name to what he was feeling, but it was different from anything he'd felt for months.

'Why don't you drive, 'the Chief said. 'Just don't get a ticket, or the Commissioner will hang both of us!'

* * *


	2. 1967 - "Stakeout".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N - Happy Hogmanay - Hope you all have a good 2021!

* * *

Chapter 2

1967 - "Stakeout".

Sergeant Ed Brown gave another yawn.

This was the thrilling side of police work. A case filled with excitement! He was working on the big cases with Chief Robert T. Ironside, special consultant to the San Francisco Police Department! Ed gave a long, bored sigh, letting his head tip back against the seat. _Watching parked cars at the San Francisco Heliport._

He'd been here for hours, with nothing but a quick cigarette on duty, staring at the car he was staking out. It wouldn't be long until Lieutenant Adams showed up and took over. And Ed couldn't wait. Eighteen hours on stakeout was a long shift, sitting cramped in a car too small for his height. He hated these Lincolns, not nearly enough leg room and he always felt like he had spent the day folded in half, even though the car itself looked like a tank and handled as badly as one too. He wanted to get out and stretch his legs, but that would have been like _asking_ for a thief to come and take the other car. He wasn't willingly going to force the hand of fate, not when he was so close to getting to the end of his shift without incident.

Night was the least likely time to take the car. No one drove around here at night, it was too obvious and these thieves were smart. Dawn was a better prospect. The first customers were already going in and out, another car leaving wouldn't attract much attention.

Ed rubbed the stubble on his face, feeling uncomfortable and needing a shave, as well as wanting some breakfast. But what he really wanted was a strong cup of coffee to help him keep alert. This shift couldn't end fast enough.

It had been tough to stay awake all night, keeping an eye on the car. The cigarette had helped, so had the knowledge that his boss would bust him down to patrolman if he'd missed anything. Ed let out a sigh and glanced at his watch. Just half an hour to go. Half an hour until Adams showed, then he could go and catch up on some sleep. Everyone else would still be in bed, including the Chief, even if he was at the other end of a radio. They would all have had their eight hours, the best he could hope for was a quick nap on the couch at Ironside's office. Ed gave another sigh. The thrilling side of police work…

Ahead, there was movement, and Ed could see a man walking towards the staked out car. It was the only time anyone had come within fifty feet of it. He held his breath, hoping that the other man would keep on walking. He didn't.

As Ed watched, the man quickly picked the lock, opened the door and got in. Ed's heart sank. So much for not tailing the car. After such a long stakeout it would be all too easy to make a stupid mistake. Damn, why couldn't he catch a break? Resigned, he picked up the radio.

'Contact! Suspect just forced left front door of car.'

There was rustling noise from the other end, then Ironside spoke.

'Okay, Ed.'

Ed gave a slight smile, pleased that the Chief was awake. At least he wasn't completely out on his own. The car thief spent a moment hot-wiring the car, then the engine came to life and the vehicle pulled slowly away.

'Driving out of parking,' he said into the radio, watching the car pull off. 'I'm on my way.'

Ed waited for a few seconds, then turned his Lincoln over, and followed.

The target car drove slowly out of the parking area, turning onto the freeway, and Ed followed just behind. At the junction, he stopped, then looked left and right up the freeway. On an impulse, he shoved on his hat, and smiled. He was just another business man on his way back from the heliport. That was all. Not tailing any car. Nothing to see. He pulled out onto the freeway and followed the car for a few miles. Then it turned off and Ed picked up the radio again.

'Heading south,' he told Ironside. 'Turning on to Mountain View Road now.'

He kept a good way behind the target car, keeping his speed down, and concentrating on looking inconspicuous. These car thieves weren't stupid, and he felt obvious in the white Lincoln as it rumbled along. He liked the Galaxies, they were much better to handle, faster and more nimble, but they were used by the police all the time, using one of those today would be like driving along with the lights and the sirens going.

The car kept climbing, and Ed followed. The road was quiet with no other vehicles, and Ed could concentrate on keeping his distance. The miles passed quickly.

Then, as he rounded a corner, in the rear view mirror Ed saw a flashy, sky-blue Mercury speeding up the road behind him. He muttered a curse under his breath. After all this, he was going to lose the other car because of someone in too much of a rush to get home.

'There's another car behind me,' Ed told Ironside over the radio. 'I may have to let him pass.'

'Better to lose the car than let them know we're on to them,' the Chief said. Ed swore quietly again. All that work, an all-night stakeout, for _nothing_. But the Chief was right. Ed slowed, the target car now a long way ahead, and pulled towards the side of the road, hoping the driver of the Mercury would take his chance and get out of his way.

The Mercury came up close behind the Lincoln, then pulled out sharply as if to overtake. But when they were side-by-side on the road, the other driver swung the Mercury to the right, aiming for the side of Ed's Lincoln. Ed stared at the other driver in shock. Tired from the long, boring shift, this was the last thing he wanted.

But in spite of being awake for over twenty two hours straight, Ed's reactions were still sharp enough for him to swerve off the road and into the dust at the side, avoiding a collision. The Lincoln fishtailed and Ed fought to keep control, but he managed to guide the car out of the dust and back out on to the road, still in front of the Mercury.

Ed grabbed the radio, but had no chance to use it. The Lincoln was leading, but the Mercury was faster. It sped up, and the driver was clearly going to try again.

Ed gave a dry gulp. They were on Mountain View Road: A road that showed the spectacular panorama of the mountains, because it was high up, and there were very few sections of barrier, or anything else, on the right had side to spoil the view… or to slow a car if it got too close to the edge.

The Mercury came up beside him, he couldn't see the driver, but the other car swerved again, trying to push the Lincoln right and closer to the edge. Ed tightened his grip on the wheel in an effort to keep in control, all the time aware of the steep drop on his right. If the car went too close, he'd roll it down the hill. It wasn't so steep at that point, but the further south they went, the higher they climbed and the worse it was going to get.

'Ed, what's going on?' demanded the Chief, the radio crackling.

'He's trying to force me off the road!'

Ahead was a dusty side track, and a very large stone, jutting out close to the edge of the road. And now the Lincoln was heading straight for it. Hitting that at such a speed would be _bad_. Instinctively, Ed braked, swinging the wheel round left, still with enough control to avoid crashing head-on and coming to an abrupt, and probably _terminal,_ stop.

Having missed the rocks, Ed managed to get the car back on the tarmac, the brakes giving a whining, high-pitched squeal of complaint. The other car swerved out, ready to have another try. The trunk of the Lincoln fishtailed once again, tires sliding on the dusty road. The Chief might have been saying something, but Ed was too focused on staying on the road and avoiding the steep drop on the right to listen.

The Mercury swung towards the Lincoln once again. This time the front of the cars collided with a screech of metal, and Ed struggled with the steering, aware that the Mercury had the upper hand. Smaller, faster, more manoeuvrable, the Mercury also had the wider area of road. The Lincoln was heavy, and in spite of his good reactions, it was always going to be the slower of the two cars. He was at a huge disadvantage.

Ed gave another dry gulp. This wasn't going to end well. He had to try and stop before he got himself killed. The Chief was still speaking through the radio. Ed ignored the noise, he was watching the road ahead.

His stomach dropped as they turned a corner. They were coming up to a sharp left hand turn, with a wide, dusty lay-by on the right side, ringed by a narrow barrier and some old trees. A perfect place for the other car to finish the job. He gripped the wheel, knowing he had to keep the Mercury from forcing him to the right. But the Lincoln wasn't fast enough, and the other car pulled in front, swerving to cut him off, forcing him to steer away from the safety of the tarmac and towards the lay-by. Ed felt the traction between car and surface plummet, the whole car slipping in the dust and it began to swing round.

He'd lost control.

Ed was vaguely aware of the Mercury driving off up the road, then he lost sight of it. He had much _bigger_ problems. The Lincoln slid in the dust, the trunk going loose and starting to pull the car towards the drop. Against his natural instinct to stop the slide, he lifted his foot off the brake, just as Ironside had shown him, spinning the wheel the other way, letting the car drift but keeping just enough control in the steering to guide the car away from the edge.

The Lincoln was still going to crash, but at least it was into something _next_ to the road, rather than something at the _bottom_ of the ravine. He could see roughly where the car was going to hit and, keeping his eye on the spot, Ed turned the wheel hard left. He had to slide the car and lose some of the speed before a collision, or he was going to go straight through the windshield when it crashed.

It trick worked well enough, the Lincoln slowed as it drifted, but now he was going hood-first through the thin roadside barrier and then into a tree beyond. He watched the tree come closer in his vision, all the time aware there was nothing he could do to stop the collision, feeling the same resigned and horrified fear that he had the last time he'd crashed. This was going to hurt.

A moment before impact, he tensed, throwing up his left arm to protect his face from the flying glass. Then the Lincoln hit the barrier and the car went straight through it, not slowing. The next object in his path wasn't as breakable, it was the old tree. The car hit hood first with a loud crunch of metal, and shuddered to a stop.

Ed was thrown forward on impact, smacking his right arm off the wheel, a spike of pain shooting in his shoulder. The windshield cracked but didn't shatter, a few shards slicing across the back of his left hand. He couldn't move it from on top of the wheel.

The sudden jolt to a stop left Ed dazed and winded, and he slumped over on his right side, across the passenger seat, unable to move. It felt as if he'd been crushed, it was much more painful than the other crash. His whole body was ringing like a church bell and there was an agonising pain in his right shoulder that grew worse every time he breathed in. He couldn't move, it hurt too much, and he struggled to even take a breath. He watched as a line of blood from his left hand trickled down the dashboard and dripped onto the floor, spattering onto the radio.

 _The radio_. Ed could see the handset on the floor. It was within his reach but he couldn't muster the coordination to stretch out his hand and pick it up. He blinked sluggishly, realising he was about to pass out and unable to do anything about it. The radio began to blur.

'Ed? Come in, Ed?' The Chief's voice was faint and far away. 'Ed? _Ed!_ '

* * *

Ironside wheeled himself back and forward in his office, muttering to himself. Mark and Eve had sensibly stayed out of his way.

Even knowing which road Ed had been on, it had taken Highway Patrol too long to find the car, and then even longer to cut him out of the wreckage and take him off to the hospital for a check-up. Ironside scowled. And _somehow_ , Ed had contrived to get let back out with no x-ray. He'd ended up back at the office just before evening, his arm in a sling, looking slightly sheepish about the whole incident.

The Chief had insisted that his own doctor gave Brown the all clear, before letting him back on duty, they were just finishing up in the relative privacy of the den. Ed had come through it all with a few bashes and bruises, as well as a dislocated shoulder that the hospital had sorted before they discharged him. Ironside shook his head. It was a bad day when a sore head and a sore shoulder constituted a _good_ outcome for a case. It had been unnervingly close. The road was high at that point, and there was a steep drop, it wasn't called Mountain View Road for nothing.

Fortunately, Ed had been paying attention. From the look of the road, according to the Highway Patrol, he managed to stop the car spinning off, and then somehow slide enough to lose speed, so that when the car had hit, he'd not gone straight through the windshield on impact. That he hit a tree at all was bad luck, but it could have been a damn sight worse. If the car had gone over the edge, or if he'd gone through the front glass, Ed could have ended up in the hospital for weeks if he was lucky. Or in the _morgue_ if he wasn't.

There was the sound of heavy footsteps along the corridor, and Ironside turned as Lieutenant Tom Donally entered. He stomped over to the Chief, looking furious, as he usually did when anything happened to one his cars.

'Tell me what happened,' he demanded. He looked round with a scowl. 'Where's _Brown_?'

Ironside pointed in the vague direction of his den, but Donally wasn't interested.

'He's better have a damn good explanation, Chief,' he snapped.

'Someone tried to run him off the road,' Ironside replied, his own anger rising at the man's attitude. 'That's obvious from the marks. Isn't _that_ good enough for you?'

Donally gave a grudging grunt.

'I've seen the report,' he said, giving the Chief a sullen look. 'And I don't believe it.'

'What don't you believe?' demanded Ironside. 'He _was_ forced off the road.'

The Lieutenant shook his head.

'Whoever was behind the wheel of the other car didn't try very hard,' he said. 'I know that road. No one could hold a car in a skid up there. Not at that speed. Not above the top ridge.'

Ironside raised his eyebrows and glared at the other man, silent and fuming. For a moment, Donally scowled back, then he faltered in the face of Ironside's quiet anger.

'Well, I couldn't keep a car out of the ravine up there,' Donally said. 'Certainly not a _Lincoln_. So it's either a fluke or the other car wasn't trying that hard.'

Ironside kept the cold stare fixed on Donally. The other man glanced uncomfortably down to the floor. Ironside kept staring.

'Oh, come on, Chief! I know what the Highway Patrol said, but they must have been wrong. Brown couldn't have been going that fast. That's the only explanation. He couldn't have been. The car would have spun.'

'Just because you couldn't do it, doesn't mean no one could,' Ironside said coldly.

Donally narrowed his eyes.

'Then Brown was just _damned lucky_ ,' he said with a huff. 'Because he spun it _last_ time.'

'Luck, and not skill?' Ironside asked, deliberately ignoring the dig at Ed's past mistakes. Donally snorted.

'No one's _that_ good.'

 _No. Not anymore_ , thought the Chief with an unheard sigh. But considering the way he'd stopped his car from plummeting over the edge, Ed might have been a close second.

A moment later the door opened and Ed Brown walked in. On his face was that slight, infuriating, crest-fallen expression that the Chief had first seen during their trip to Miller's farm.

The Chief felt a stab of anger, followed by a powerful wave of relief.

At least Ed had been listening.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N Based on the S1 episode "A Very Hot Cool Car"


	3. 1969 - "Boom!"

Chapter 3

1969 - "Boom!"

'This is gonna work, yeah?' DW asked.

'Yes,' Ed replied.

DW looked nervously behind them as the paddy wagon rumbled along the dirt track, taking them upwards towards the top of the hill, just the way they'd planned.

Ed frowned, trying to ignore the jumble of questions at the back of his mind. How had he gotten himself into this? How had he ended up fleeing corrupt deputies with a convicted felon, in the middle of nowhere? They'd only stopped for a quick bite to eat at a quiet diner, how had he ended up in this situation? It was too late to worry about any of that now. Over the previous hours it had become clear that they only had one chance: to play dead to get those deputies off their tail and then get themselves back to civilisation in time to see the Chief. He didn't like doing it like this but Ironside would understand. _Hopefully_.

'You know what you're doing, Brown?' DW asked.

'Yes.'

'And you're going to get it to slide, and then jump out too?'

'Yes.'

There was a short silence. Ed scowled at the steering wheel, trying to keep his focus on the road ahead. DW's nerves and constant questions were not helping his confidence. He was starting to feel the pressure of the situation.

This was nothing like before. Certain other police officers _may_ have occasionally taken to stirring up old rumours about his driving skills, and maybe he did deserve at least a little of that reputation. But this was different. This was one of the most dangerous things he had ever attempted to do, even counting all the times he'd tried to arrest people who were shooting at him. They were only going to get one chance. This could go badly wrong in so many ways, most of them ending with one or both of them being dead, either caught up in the crash, or shot by a crooked sheriff. He was taking a huge risk, but what other choice did they have left?

'And you can do that?' DW asked suddenly.

' _Yes._ Stop with the questions!' Ed hadn't meant to snap, and DW lapsed into a surly silence. Ed couldn't blame him for being nervous, but this was a tricky move and he needed to concentrate on the wagon, not keep talking. He took the handcuffs out of his pocket, clipping on side of the steering wheel, ready for later.

The wagon kept climbing up the hill, and Ed kept a close eye on the car behind. They were a good distance ahead of the sheriff's police car, and it should be enough of a gap to let DW jump out and get under cover, as long as nothing went wrong. _Please let nothing go wrong._

'We're coming up to the bend, maybe a minute,' Ed told DW. The other man made no reply, he was staring out of the window. Maybe he was starting to feel the pressure as well.

The wagon sped on, at maximum speed for the climb, the engine grumbling with the effort. Ed kept his foot down as much as he dared, needing to be as far ahead of the following vehicle as he could. They turned a corner, clearing the low-lying trees and suddenly Ed could see it, a left-hand hairpin bend, perfect to let DW jump and roll under the foliage nearby. Ed eased off the gas as they approached the turn, slowing down more than he usually would. This was DW's stop.

'Ready?'

'How did I let you talk me into this?' DW muttered.

'Are you _ready_?' Ed asked again.

DW gave him a quick scowl that said _NO!_ , then opened the door, ready to jump.

At the apex of the bend the wagon swung round, and the passenger side was hidden from the view of the trailing police car. When the wagon was moving at its slowest, DW jumped out and landed heavily on the dirt. His knees buckled and he curled up on his side. In the wing mirror, Ed saw him rolling away from the edge of the road, and under the cover of the thick bushes at the side.

As quickly as he dared, still concentrating on making sure the paddy wagon didn't lose more momentum, Ed leaned over and pulled the passenger door shut. They had to keep the illusion that both men were still in the wagon.

Pushing his foot down hard on the gas, Ed drove off, regaining some of the lost speed and raising a cloud of dust behind him. The following car didn't stop at the bend and Ed assumed that DW was safely out of sight.

He gave a thin, mirthless smile. _Now it's my turn._

It was another half mile before the final turn. Ed looked at the road ahead, seeing the track he and DW had scoped out earlier. His heartbeat was speeding up in anticipation of his next move. DW was safe enough at the moment, but it all depended on getting the wagon cleanly over the edge _and_ getting himself out safely before that happened. Doing fancy tricks in a car was one thing, but deliberately destroying the wagon by driving it over a cliff was something else entirely. There was still a lot to go wrong.

As the climb levelled off, Ed tensed. There was no going back. The hand cuffs were fixed on the wheel and finally he snapped them round the base of the steering column, fully committed to the jump from a moving vehicle. He took a deep breath, watching for the point in the track where he could jump and still be out of the eye-line of the police car, if he was quick.

For a moment Ed hesitated, thinking about what could go wrong. If he was too slow, they'd see him, if he jumped too soon, the same thing would happen and Ed had no doubt he'd get a bullet in his back if they _did_ see him. The same thing would happen if he messed up the landing, or hurt himself as he fell. And those were just the things he could think of that could go wrong. He'd learned from working with Chief Ironside that whatever you _thought_ could go wrong would always be trumped by the unexpected.

A pulse of fear went through him. DW had trusted him with his life by agreeing to this. The manoeuvre was dangerous, more dangerous than a slide in the rain, and more dangerous than a roll down a ravine. One small error in timing or coordination and he was dead, and so was DW.

Ed opened the door, his other hand still on the wheel and his foot still on the gas, keeping the van on course for the edge, ready and watching for just the right moment. The wagon was travelling at nearly twice the speed it had been when DW had leapt out. It was a choice between two evils: The faster the better to keep away from the chasing car, but too fast and he would likely kill himself on impact. At the last possible moment, he put the gear into neutral.

This was going to _hurt_. The first time he'd bruised his ribs. The second time he'd dislocated his shoulder. Who knew what might happen today. Ed swallowed his fear, knowing that this was the only way. He'd done everything he could. Now he just has to trust that this was going to work out okay.

At the perfect moment, Ed jumped, stepping out into nothing, curling up to spread the impact and protect his wrists and arms, all the time hoping that he had anticipated the lie of the land and that he wouldn't end up incapacitated and a sitting target. The ground was hard and unforgiving, and the jolt of impact sent a shock through his body. He closed his eyes against the dust and dirt, and let himself roll, using the forward momentum to get clear.

With a pained grunt, he tumbled sideways off the road, under the cover of the bushes close by. Breathless and completely disoriented, Ed let himself keep going, hoping that he had done enough and was far enough away from the roadside to not be seen, counting on the thin bushes to give him enough cover. He could hear the other car approach.

Ahead, the wagon continued onward, and began to slide sideways. To an outside observer it looked like the driver had over-compensated for the curve of the road and had lost control. The van slid more, the handcuffs catching on the steering wheel, and the old paddy wagon sailed gracefully off the edge of the cliff with a quiet whoosh.

A moment later there was a crunch, then a flat, thudding _boom_ as the engine caught fire, sending a plume of dark smoke up into the clear blue sky above.

Ed froze, hardly daring to breath or move, ignoring the ache all over his body. This was the moment of the greatest risk. They were without transport or protection. If those deputies decided to get out and take a look they might see him. Worse, they might decide to examine the wreckage, and if they did, there would be no way to disguise the trick they'd just pulled. It wouldn't take the deputies long to hunt them down and finish the job. In spite of himself, Ed shuddered. He'd done his best, he'd just have to hope that was enough.

There was the sound of another car approaching, barely twenty seconds after he'd jumped. He'd had no idea they were so close. Ed forced himself to keep as still as he could, even though he longed to take a huge, deep gulps of air to replace the one that had been knocked out of him when he'd landed.

The police car pulled up at the edge of the cliff, but neither of the two men inside got out to check. After only a cursory few moments, the car pulled off and vanished down the hillside, heading back towards town. Even so, Ed waited a whole minute before moving, just to be sure they had gone.

Very slowly, Ed relaxed, the initial stab of pain was lessening and he hoped that the rest of the aching would slowly subside too. He'd forgotten how much doing crazy stuff in cars tended to make _everything_ hurt. He sighed. At least he was still alive to tell the tale.

He pushed himself up to a sitting position, ignoring the throbbing in his shoulder and the ache in the back of his knees. Then he waited as DW came over, furtive and nervous, but not looking like he'd taken any injury from his jump out of the wagon. He crouched down beside Ed.

'That worked okay,' DW said with a smile.

Slowly, Ed nodded, letting himself feel relieved that they had got this far. The most dangerous part was over. Now was the boring part of the plan: the long, slow walk back to town to give themselves up, in full view of everyone. Getting there was going to take them an hour, at least. And in that hour he had to come up with an explanation, and a very, very good one. The walk would give him plenty of time to worry about what the Chief was going to say. And plenty of time to think up a gentle way to break it to him. Ed frowned slightly. Probably _best_ to make sure they were safe and out of the hands of the crooked deputies before he mentioned the wagon's fiery fate.

Ed sighed once more. And it was also better to get it over with sooner, rather than later. They had to get back to town before dark, or before anything else could go wrong. Carefully, he pushed himself up off the ground, dusting of his jacket and trying not to wince too much.

'Let's get going,' he said to DW.

They started back towards town, following the road the other car had used only minutes earlier. DW trotted slightly behind Ed at first, looking nervously over his shoulder to the column of dark smoke that rose into the cloudless sky. Then he tapped Ed on the arm.

'Say, they teach you to do that at police school?' he asked, jerking his thumb over his shoulder towards the crash site.

Ed shrugged, but he had a grin on his face.

'Um. Kinda.'

* * *

Bus fare? _Bus fare_!

The cheek of that man! He'd flamin' well give him _bus fare_!

True, Ed had looked genuinely apologetic about what had happened. And the Chief was relieved to have him back in one piece, as it had been touch and go for a while. And it was a reasonably good plan to play dead and come strolling back into town.

Overall, the paddy wagon was a small price to pay for uncovering seven corrupt cops and a cover up to murder. Not to mention getting his sergeant back alive and still in one piece.

But still: _Bus fare_!

And the Chief didn't say anything to Ed on the whole trip back to San Francisco.

Not a single _word_.

* * *

A/N Based on the S3 episode "Poole's Paradise".


	4. 1970 - "Assume This!"

1970 - "Assume this!"

Eve and Ed stood side by side on the sidewalk, looking at the Ford, its fender dangling off at the left and the front wing crushed and scraped. The water hydrant had come off better, most likely because it had only taken a glancing blow. Eve was shifting around nervously.

'What is the Chief going to say?' she murmured. For a moment, she stood there, horrified. Then she looked _more_ horrified. 'And what is my _mother_ going to say?'

'You're more worried about your mother than the Chief?' Ed asked doubtfully.

'You had better believe it,' Eve replied. 'You don't know my mother!'

Ed gave her a wide grin but that only made Eve all the more upset.

'It's okay for you,' she said angrily. 'You weren't driving. I can't believe it. How could I have been so stupid! How could this have happened?'

'Take it easy, Eve.'

It hadn't even been Eve's fault. Ed had seen it about to happen and there was nothing Eve could have done to avoid it. The other car had pulled right out in front of them, and she'd had the choice of taking its wing off or hitting the hydrant. She had taken the smart option and the hydrant had lost out.

'At least the radiator's not gone too,' Ed said helpfully. Eve didn't look pleased at his contribution.

'Some help you are, Ed!'

He shrugged. There was only so much he could do. Then an idea struck him and he grinned again.

'And stop smiling like that,' Eve said, scowling fiercely at him.

But Ed didn't stop smiling, in fact he just smiled more widely. It was a wonderful idea, just perfect, but he wasn't sure Eve would agree.

There was movement from the road, and Ed saw the top of a familiar vehicle appear at the crest of the hill.

'They're here,' he said, nodding behind her. Eve sighed, not bothering to look around, still looking despairingly at the damaged car.

'What am I gonna say, Ed?' she asked. 'What am I going to say to the Chief? Because you _know_ what he's going to say to me!'

Ed knew exactly what Ironside was going to say. His opinion of "lady drivers" was not good at the best of times, but recent events had made him even less tolerant than before. And he had always held Eve up as the exception that proved the rule. And before today, that had been true. Even though it wasn't Eve's fault, the Chief would be understandably furious.

He looked at her, so upset and concerned, knowing how much she hated disappointing the Chief and wondering if she would agree to his idea. It was fifty-fifty.

'Look, Eve,' he said, moving round to stand next to her, and leaning on the back of the car. 'Can I make a suggestion?'

She knew instantly he was up to something. They'd known each other for a long time, and worked as partners for most of that. Of course she knew he was leading up to _something_. But he was pretty sure she hadn't guessed what. The trick was going to be to get her to agree.

'Well?' she asked, her eye narrowing in suspicion.

'I think he'll blame me,' he said.

'Don't be ridiculous, Ed,' she replied.

'Why not?'

'Because he'll know.'

'No he won't.'

'Ed, of course he will.'

Ed gave a quiet snort, specifically designed to make Eve annoyed.

'He _will_ ,' she insisted.

This time, Ed smiled.

'I'll tell you what,' he said. 'Ten bucks says he'll blame me.'

Eve looked up at Ed, eyes wide, her mouth slightly open in shock.

'You can't mean _lie_? To the _Chief_?' she said, aghast at the suggestion. Ed laughed at the way she said the words, as if he was asking her to steal the Hope Diamond or rob a bank. That just made her look all the more angry.

'No,' he said, trying in vain to hide the confidence in his smile. 'I mean, let's find out if I'm right. That's not lying.'

' _Edward Brown_!'

She looked indignant at the suggestion. But she also hadn't said no.

'I mean it,' he said. 'Ten bucks says he'll blame me if we don't tell him anything about what happened when he arrives.'

'I'm not sure,' Eve started to say.

Again Ed gave that quiet snort, and she scowled.

'I thought you said he'd know,' he said. The he put on his most honest and persuasive expression, the one he usually reserved for doctors that wanted to give him x-rays or keep him in hospital overnight, looking innocently at Eve. She paused, looking at the ground for a moment. The van was almost there.

Confident his plan would work, Ed crossed his arms as he lent on the broken car, still keeping his eyes on the van, watching Mark as he parked. At the last moment Ed leaned over.

'Make up your mind,' he said out of the corner of his mouth. 'Ten bucks.'

There was a momentary silence.

'Deal,' she said.

Ed nodded and they waited as the Chief opened the van door.

* * *

His staff were supposed to be _trustworthy_. And his staff were supposed to be _competent_. His staff were supposed to be the best of the best.

His staff weren't supposed to keep _on_ destroying department property!

As the van pulled up and parked, the Chief sat hunched over in the back, glaring at the floor. This was the last thing he needed today, there was so much work to be done, he didn't want to have to go chasing all over the city tiding up their mess. They knew that. They knew how much was at stake. What the flamin' heck was wrong with them?

Mark got out, and Ironside opened the side door rolling forward far enough to take a good, long look at his two errant staff members. He glared at them both and they stood there in silence. Eve was looking embarrassed, Ed was looking down at the ground.

As Ironside stared at Ed, that same guilty, regretful expression spread over the Sergeant's face, exactly the same expression as the last _three_ incidents. Ironside gave a loud huff of anger. After all the time and effort he'd put in, he'd thought Brown was getting _better_ at this. He glared at the man.

'Sergeant Brown!' both Ed and Eve looked up. 'Sergeant, this is the _fourth_ time we've been in this position! What the _blue blazes_ do you think you are doing?'

Eve opened her mouth to say something but Ed spoke first, cutting her off.

'Sorry, Chief,' he said loudly. 'I'll _try_ not to let it happen again.'

The Chief heard Eve catch her breath as Ed spoke. But he was far too angry with his Sergeant to pay that much attention.

'You said "sorry Chief" the last time with the wagon. And the two times before that! I swear Sergeant Brown, sometimes I don't know what is _wrong_ with you.'

'Sorry Chief,' Ed repeated. The Chief's scowl grew deeper. He hated that doe-eyed, crest-fallen, innocent expression even more each time Ed used it. Especially when he kept on _destroying cars_! He leaned forward in his chair, fixing Ed with his most furious expression.

'Do we need another trip to Miller's farm?' he asked in a low voice.

Ed shook his head.

'No, sir!'

Ironside muttered something under his breath as Ed looked to the ground, biting his bottom lip. The Chief stared in disbelief. Was that a flamin' _smirk_ on the man's face?! He'd flamin' well teach him to smirk about something like this! Didn't he know what everyone else already thought about his driving? Didn't he realise how serious this was? What did it take to get the man to _learn_?

'Let's get out of here,' he snapped. Both Eve and Ed started forward, but the Chief held up his hand suddenly.

'Not you, Sergeant Brown,' he said. 'You can wait here until the _pickup_ comes. And then _you_ can be the one to explain to Lieutenant Donally exactly what happened this time.'

Ed swallowed hard, the smirk vanishing from his face. That was going to be punishment enough. Tom Donally had nursed a keen dislike of Ed since the incident with the car thieves, and the feeling was more than reciprocated. That confrontation should be enough to deter Ed from making the same mistake again. At least for a while.

'Every single time I think you've learnt to take treat cars with a little _respect_ , something else happens.'

'I'm sorry, Chief,' Ed replied. At least he sounded properly chastised this time. Maybe letting him deal with Donally on his own would be a little harsh. No. It was the _only_ way Brown was going to learn. Ironside gave a harrumph of annoyance. He should get out of here before he changed his mind.

'Mark! Eve! Let's go!' said the Chief.

As he turned away, he saw Eve go over to speak to Ed. She had her back to the van but the Chief could just imagine her expression. He watched Ed give her a rueful smile, then she flicked a note out in front of him.

'Ten bucks, in case you need a taxi, Sergeant Brown,' she said.

'Thank you, Officer Whitfield.'

'Thank _you_ , Sergeant Brown.' She poked a finger at him. 'But don't think I'm going to forget this.'

She turned, heading back toward the van, and the Chief gave a sigh. At least one member of the San Francisco Police Department didn't go around crashing cars all the time. At least he could trust Eve to be responsible, and Sergeant Brown's bad habits weren't rubbing off on her.

* * *

Leaning on the trunk of the damaged car, Ed watched the van reverse out, then drive back up the road and turn out of sight. Once he was sure they were gone, he gave a slow smile, and lit a cigarette.

He tucked the bill into his top jacket pocket, wondering what Lieutenant Donally was going to say to him this time. Probably nothing that he hadn't said last time, or the time before that. Or even the time before _that_. Ed shrugged. He'd just have to ride it out.

But on the positive side, he was ten bucks up for the day, the easiest ten bucks he'd made in a while. On the negative side, the repairs were going to come out of his paycheck. Again.

 _That's gonna to hurt_ , he thought with a sigh. Eve could afford it more than he could, but there were more important things to consider. He couldn't let Eve fall out with the Chief, any more than let the Chief be annoyed at Eve. Besides, he also couldn't let the Chief think he actually paid _attention._

Ed kept smiling and shook his head. He had his reputation to think of.

* * *

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Notes
> 
> #1 and #4 are made up situations and it was fun to imagine some of the backstory with Ed and the Chief. References are made to the events of "Tom Dayton is loose Among Us", and I keep on coming back to that episode. Like "Reprise", it's one of those episodes that is a goldmine of good fic ideas.
> 
> Driving Skillz
> 
> I can imaging the Chief being excellent at anything he cared to put his mind to, hence the driving "lesson" in the first chapter.
> 
> Ed, on the other hand, does crash at least two more vehicles than anyone else in the show. I wrote him breaking (through *almost* no fault of his own) three other cars, and as I said in the intro, swordznsorcery pointed it out. I can also see Ed as a petrolhead. He drives a lovely Mach 1 Ford Mustang in S6. From the context of the episode, I think its his own car, not a patrol car.
> 
> Bit-part players
> 
> Larry Carr is the same officer that is Sergeant Larry Carr from the S5 Episode "If a Body see a Body" and hints at some of the reasons Carr dislikes Ed so much.
> 
> Tom Donally has appeared in a number of my fanfictions and I think is based on a character in one of the episodes. I just can't remember which one, so I can't be sure. In my fic Donally is usually on Ed's case about *something* (cough-cars-cough).
> 
> DW is from the episode Poole's Paradise, and is the man who takes Ed hostage. He's one of my favourite single-episode characters, and Clu Gulager is great in that role.
> 
> Episodes
> 
> #2 "A Very Hot Cool Car" - yes, I did twist it a little so Ed came out of it handling it a bit better than he did in the episode.
> 
> And it always annoyed me a little why (in-character) he would put his hat on. Obviously it was because they were using stock footage, but I always get to that point and think "Why did you put your hat on?"
> 
> #3 "Poole's Paradise" - there is a big gap between them getting ready to total the wagon and seeing the explosion, so this is just a missing scene. I think it must have been an expensive stunt to perform so they didn't do it. Besides which, back in the land of realism, jumping from a moving vehicle is an incredibly dangerous thing to do. Much over 20 or 30 mph and your incapacitated or dead!
> 
> Death of a Paddy Wagon - it's my understanding that the actual, real-life SFPD didn't like Ironside rocking around in an old Paddy Wagon, as it wasn't a good advertisement for a modern police force. So they changed it.
> 
> Continuity
> 
> Nothing in these (directly) contradicts either the series itself or the 3 longer fanfics I've written, so I consider it canon in my created Ironside Universe.
> 
> Thanks
> 
> Once again, thank you to everyone who has taken the time to review or to PM me. It is very much appreciated when you let me know how much your are enjoying what I write.


End file.
